The Effects of Kryptonian Pheromones on Human Psychology: A Case Study
by nicnac918
Summary: In retrospect, the hand shake hadn't been the best idea...


Originally posted on Clexmas for the Secret Santa gift exchange for ladyoneill.

Original author's notes: I was asked for a story where President Lex comes out at a White House Christmas Party that Clark is covering for the Daily Planet. Which my brain took in a very... interesting direction. Apologies for sticking closer to the letter of the request than the spirit, but hopefully this is enjoyable anyways. ^-^

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><p>When Lex came to his senses again he had just collapsed – been thrown onto really - a couch in one of the many small seemingly purposeless rooms in the White House. It was probably one down the hall from the Christmas party, but Lex couldn't swear to that at the moment because, honestly, 'came to his senses' was something of a relative term in this particular instance. He was still panting, wild-eyed, and busy calculating all the different ways he could rid Clark Kent of his clothing, but since he was now capable of not immediately acting upon any of the 26 methods for removing Clark's pants – five involving only his teeth – flitting through his brain, he was willing to count it as a victory.<p>

"What the hell just happened, Clark?" Lex demanded. Clark, almost predictably, froze.

"What did you just call me?"

"Clark. Your name." Granted it wasn't the name Lex usually used because it felt like he was playing on a sense of familiarity they didn't share anymore, no matter how well Lex had memorized every single word in the diary of a hard drive that had been anonymously sent to him after he contracted amnesia (for the third time apparently). But it was still Clark's name, dammit, and Lex didn't have time for this bullshit. "So, Clark Jerome Kent Kal-El Superman, do you mind telling me what the _fuck_ just happened?"

"You remember?" Clark asked in small voice, continuing to show a surprising lack of concern about the fact that less than a minute ago Lex had turned a simple handshake into an attempted tonsillectomy by tongue. Lex wanted to grab Clark by the shoulders and shake sense into him.

It probably said something the continued effect of whatever the hell it was on him that he didn't realize that he had stood up to act on that desire until Clark's voice cut across the air. "Stop. You really don't want to do that right now. Touching me is what caused that problem in the first place."

"What are you talking about? How the is me touching you causing this?" Lex had touched Clark plenty of times and it had never filled him the unquenchable desire for crazy hot sweaty sex before… well, not to this degree anyway.

Clark collapsed on one of the room's chairs and buried his face in his hands. "It's because," he began before trailing off into mumbling incoherence.

"Come again?"

Clark sighed heavily and then looked up at Lex. "Basically, I'm going through pon farr. Well, reverse pon farr. My skin excretes some kind of hormone or something and when people touch me their skin absorbs it. It hits the brain pretty fast, and once it does, the person feels compelled to have sex with me, though the degree of it depends on how attracted to me…" Clark trailed off, his eyes going wide as he looked at Lex. "Wait, no stop a second. You're not gay; you're attracted to women." The latter two statements were practically hurled at Lex like accusations.

"Yes," Lex agreed. They both were technically accurate, but it was pretty clear from Clark's frown that he knew Lex was engaging in some selective truth-telling. "Sexuality is a spectrum, not an either-or proposition," Lex acknowledged finally. Well, that was that cat out of the bag, though he suspected keeping that secret was a lost cause from the moment that he started feeling Clark up like a desperate horny teenager.

Or maybe not, from the shocked expression on Clark's face. In fact, it looked like Clark needs a minute to process the whole thing, which worked for Lex, because he needed some time to sort out what to do next. He just made out with another man in front of a large number of people, including a number of other reporters who were there to cover the party like Clark was (or at least had been up until said making out). There was no way they were going to be able to keep Lex's attempt to get into Clark's pants a secret, so he'd have to find _some_ way to spin this thing. He really didn't want his tenure as President to be overcast with the pall of sexual misconduct.

"How long before I can safely touch you again?" Lex asked, and Clark blushed furiously, which did nothing to help suppress Lex's lingering desire to jump him.

"A week. Most people should be safe in five days, but you're… You should probably wait a week." Apparently Lex's reaction to Clark's pheromones, or whatever, was unusually strong. Lovely. A week, though, Lex could work with a week.

"We're in love," Lex announced loudly and seemingly apropos of nothing with the vague hope of shocking Clark into silence again.

No such luck. "What?!"

"You molested me," Lex said, quieting Clark incipient protests with a raised eyebrow. "You molested me in such a way that it looked like I was molesting you, in front of a crowd of people. Theirs is a very low chance of me being able to get out of this situation with my reputation intact, and zero chance of getting out of it without having to come out of the closet to the entire world. This is how you're going to make that up to me." Clark, who'd been looking guiltier and guiltier with each passing word, nodded tightly in agreement.

"We were friends a while ago; that's a matter of public record," Lex said, beginning to paint the picture of their imaginary relationship. "Our friendship fell apart, but after my 'death' and return you were so happy to find out I was still alive you looked me up and we made amends. We decided, however, to keep our rekindled friendship a secret for a variety of reasons we can come up with later. After you and Lois decided the ninth time _wasn't_ the charm and that many interrupted weddings was probably a sign," – Clark didn't so much as bat an eyelash at Lex knowing the exact nature of his and Lois's break-up Lex noted with interest, filing away his reaction, or lack therefore of, for later perusal – "the two of us became closer and we were basically dating before either of us realized what was going on."

Clark snorted. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Lex sent him a quicksilver smile, then continued. "I told you I loved you two months ago, but, as you were just coming out of a serious very long term relationship, you weren't ready to return the sentiment. At least, not until tonight, hence my overenthusiastic reaction."

"You think that will work?" Clark asked, sounding honestly curious.

"Hollywood has made a mint off the fact people are willing to excuse any sort of appalling behavior if they think it's romantic. It'll work," Lex assured him.

"And how long do we have to pretend we're in a relationship for?"

"As long as it takes." Lex wasn't about to give Clark that easy of an out.

"Alright," Clark agreed, sounding resigned. Hardly the most favorable reaction, but better than Lex had realistically hoped for. In fact, this whole evening was turning out far better than he thought it would when he had 'coincidentally' scheduled the party during the same time Clark was scheduled to visit his mother in D.C. and then sent an invitation to the _Daily Planet_, a Kansas based newspaper, to send a reporter.

"Okay," Lex said, standing up and straightening himself up – but not too much, a slightly ruffled look could only help at this point. "Pull yourself together and then once more into the breach."

"To declare our undying love for each other?" Clark muttered sarcastically even as he what Lex had told him to.

Lex grinned. "Of course."


End file.
